As Told Over Brunch is a home for intelligent discourse from the twenty-something perspective - so the stuff you gossip about over mimosas on Sunday morning or over takeout on your friend's couch when happy hour ends too early. We love chatting about our lives, whether it be the relationships we’re building (or destroying), lessons we've learned at work, struggles at school, growing pains we've felt, or even the food we’re talking over.

When I woke up last week, I didn’t know I’d be buying a plane ticket to Italy. Actually I thought I’d be buying a ticket to Barcelona. But that’s not what happened.

A few weeks ago, I signed up for travel deal emails from Scott’s Cheap Flights. Daily, deals land in my inbox. Most of them I ignore. Last Monday I saw a deal for $400 flights to Spain – from Richmond.

Get out.

And this wasn’t a cheap airline: it was Delta. How could this be happening?

Sure enough, it was true. I found $400 flights from Richmond to Barcelona in May and August and a few other odd times. I had to get in on this. Spain has never been the top of my bucket list – not even in the top 10, maybe the top 15 – but $400? Who could say no to that? It’s like passing on an open bar at a wedding.

I wanted to explore dates more and what other Spanish cities I might venture to, so I added “Spain” to do my running to-do list that I keep in the Notes of my phone—as in “Buy plane ticket to Spain.” I put it right below, “Polish boots.”

The next day (Tuesday), I arrive to my evening class. I haven’t bought the Barcelona tickets yet. But then my classmate says, “Delta is having some wild deals today. My friend just got a flight to Paris.”

Me: “I know! I have it on my to-do list to buy a ticket to Spain.” (Who says stuff like that?)

While the professor begins her lecture, I hop onto Delta’s website and, instead of putting RIC to BCN, I search RIC to VCE, as in Venice. I gape. I find flights in August to Venice for $405.

$405!

Round trip.

This can’t be real.

On my list of countries to see, Italy is number two. When I tried to study abroad in college, I would’ve gone to Florence. $405 to Venice? I quickly Google distances from Venice to Rome, to Florence, to Milan. I find a blog outlining doing Italy in a week. I read that Italy can be done on a budget. I am sold.

My classmates help me decide if I should go for seven or eight days. Eight days, we agree.

I click “Confirm.”

Walking home from class, I call my mom. I know she’ll be upset. That’s how my parents process my trips. I’ve wanted to travel since childhood, and trips to the Appalachian mountains are not the sort of traveling I meant.

This past January when I booked my first trip abroad, solo to Copenhagen, I thought I wouldn’t tell my parents until the day I left. But then I was so excited so I told them.

Mom: “…What? You’re going to Europe? By yourself?” And then, “Oh, that’s…nice…” She struggled to identify an adjective that didn’t reveal her trepidation at her baby child departing U.S. soil unaccompanied.

The day I returned from Copenhagen, I booked a trip to Amsterdam for three months later. I called my mom to relay the news.

When I got accepted to a free trip to Qatar through my university, my parents asked if I was actually going. As in, “That’s great you got chosen to go, but you’re not surely going?”

And then, this September, I bought a ticket to Germany in March. I made a promise to myself after returning from Amsterdam with Qatar already on my calendar that I would always have a trip planned for my future at any given time. And Germany would be next.

I wasn’t going to tell my parents about Germany, I knew they would call me reckless (me? reckless?), but it slipped out a few weeks later.

So here we are. I haven’t even gone to Germany yet, and I’ve bought a ticket to Italy. For $405!

Me: “Mom, I’m so excited! I have something to tell you, but you’re going to be mad.”

Mom: “I won’t be mad. What is it?”

Me: “I’m going to Italy! In August! For $400!”

Mom: “WHAT?”

Definitely mad.

She tells me she’s not angry, though she should listen to her tone. She tells me I just got back from Qatar, I’m going to New Orleans in January and Germany in March, what am I thinking. “It seems a little impulsive,” she says as if that’s an insult. “You’re like a travelholic lately.” Also another attempt at an insult. “Are you trying to see every country in a year?”

Me internally: Ding ding ding.

Just kidding, Mom.

I try to explain: “While it might seem that way, and I understand why it seems that way, (and maybe it is that way,) but I still have a head on my shoulders, and the trip isn’t for ten months so it can’t be that impulsive. And it’s $400, Mom. Do you know how cheap $400 is?”

Mom: “But what about going with someone? Why do you have to go alone? Why can’t you make plans with friends and just wait a little? Not just fifteen minutes?”

Me: “Because then the deal will be gone! Duh.”

We continued bickering for several minutes, and I pondered why I called her in the first place, let alone why she was my first call (after posting a Facebook status about my purchase). I finally lied to calm her down: “I have 48 hours to cancel the trip. It’s not a done deal.”

Mom: “You can cancel it?”

Me: “Yes. I have two days. I’m going to think on it. Maybe I won’t go.”

Once we got off the phone, I still had to walk the rest of the way back to my apartment, and I was left confronting my mom’s (valid) points: Why couldn’t I wait to go for someone? Why couldn’t I wait at all? Was I impulsive? (Yes—is that even a question?)

My first retort to anyone is, I have wanted to travel since kindergarten. I remember wanting to go to England as a kid and then Egypt and, later, Italy and Switzerland. My parents (and a lot of people) severely underestimated that desire. A lot of us want to travel. I’m no different—but I do think I might be a bit more hell-bent.

And why wait? I’ve written about this before: travel is a privilege. Not everyone can travel. I am blessed that I have a budget (and no retirement plan, LOL) so I can afford to go. I am blessed that I have a job (aka I’m a PhD student, let’s LOL again) that allows me to take off a week in August. And I am lucky to have “found” a deal to Italy for $400.

When the opportunity presents itself, you seize it. I don’t advocate being reckless. But my motto is,

Live while you can, save for when you can’t.

If I waited, the deal might be gone. If I waited, I might not find a friend. If you can do it and you want to do it and the benefits far outweigh the risks, then you should do it. I imagined the other scenario: I had a friend, we decided to go to Italy, but there were no deals, and it was $1,000. I wouldn’t go. I know myself. I’m a tightwad.

But in these circumstances, I could go. So I am.

And, thankfully, this story has an even happier ending. In the resulting two hours after my flight transaction, I convinced four other friends to join me. So this August, Sara, myself, and three other friends will be jetting to Venice together.

I gladly removed “Spain” from my to-do list. Now I just gotta polish my boots.